


Stomp your feet, spin around

by asterisms



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, but is mostly gen, can be read as pre-relationship, no plot to speak of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:31:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterisms/pseuds/asterisms
Summary: The first time MJ chooses to actually sit with them at lunch rather than lurk five seats away, Peter stops talking mid sentence.“What?” she asks, clutching the book she’s holding to her chest. “I felt like a change of scenery, that’s all.”Peter exchanges a look with Ned, shrugs, and goes back to telling his story.She doesn’t contribute much to the conversation that day, but she’s there, and it’s a start.Or: Peter makes a friend, Ned loves his friends, and MJ has friends





	Stomp your feet, spin around

**Author's Note:**

> This is very much set in a different verse from In Your Corner. It still follows the events of homecoming, but they otherwise aren’t connected. 
> 
> Mostly because I wanted to explore a different form the immediate aftermath might have taken.
> 
> Anyway here, take this fic where nothing happens i need it to be out of my drafts folder immediately

The first time Peter tells Ned the whole story of homecoming, three days after that awful night, they’re curled up together on his friend’s bed, and Peter’s still coming to terms with the fact that this is real, that his life has gone on, after everything. It takes longer than he thinks it should thanks to the countless stops and starts when he finds himself at a loss of how to put that night into words, but slowly, so slowly he fears he may never be done, he shares.

He doesn’t remember everything that happened, overwhelming fear overriding his memory in some places, but he does his best.

Throughout his account, Ned is thankfully silent, understanding without having to be told that if Peter was interrupted now, he may not be able to finish.

Once the words stop coming, he feels drained, and his throat is sore from speaking so long without pause.

“Peter,” Ned says softly, voice clogged by the tears he’s fighting back as he stares at his friend, his friend who almost _died_ , with wide eyes. He clutches Peter’s hand with all the strength he has.

“Yeah,” is all Peter says in reply, keeping his gaze trained on their joined hands.

“You could’ve died.”

Peter lets his eyes fall closed.

“Yeah,” he says again, softer this time.

“Can I hug you?” Ned asks.

In response, Peter scoots forward and buries his face in Ned’s shoulder, sighing happily when Ned’s arms wrap around him and their legs tangle together. Rationally, he knows that he’s far more capable of protecting himself than Ned is, but he still feels safer with his friend than he does alone.

The door to Ned’s room opens after a quiet knock, and Ned’s mom peeks her head inside.

“Peter, your aunt called-” she says. A look of concern spreads across her face when she sees the serious look on Ned’s face and the way Peter burrows into his space. “What’s wrong?”

Peter just presses his forehead harder against Ned’s shoulder, careful as ever not to use too much of his strength and accidentally bruise his friend.

“We’re okay, Mom,” Ned says.

She sits on the bed beside them and presses a warm hand to Peter’s back. He can’t help but shudder at the touch. He’s been jumpy ever since everything went down with Toomes, but something about Ned’s apartment, the smell that lingers in the air and the familiarity that comes from years of sleeping over, spending nearly as much time here as at home, makes him feel safe.

“Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything.”

“What’d May want?” Peter asks instead of answering, voice muffled.

“She says you haven’t been answering your phone.”

Peter lifts his head to peer over Ned’s shoulder and sees his phone resting on the floor, screen lit up with a notification of his aunt’s latest missed message.

“Oh,” he says quietly, “sorry.”

“It’s alright, Peter,” she says. “She was just asking when you planned on being home.”

Peter doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t move at all except for the way his grip tightens where he’s holding to the back of Ned’s shirt.

When she sees Ned’s pleading look, his mom smiles softly and runs a hand through her son’s hair.

“Why don’t you stay the night, Peter,” she suggests.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. You’re always welcome here, you know that. We still have some of your things from the last time you slept over, and your backpack is here, so you should be all set.”

“Thanks,” Peter says shyly, unable to hide his smile.

“Anytime,” she replies, sharing a fond look with her son. “I’ll let May know.”

 

“Do you ever wish you weren't Spider-Man?” Ned asks later that night, long after his parents have gone to bed, as he watches Peter crawl around the ceiling to put up the pack of glow in the dark stars he’d received from his cousin a couple months ago.

Peter stills and considers dropping to the floor, because he thinks it’s probably not a good idea to have a Serious Conversation while he’s perched on the ceiling, but in the end he decides to stay where he is.

He feels safer up high, like nothing can reach him.

“No,” he says honestly.

“But, why? If you weren’t Spider-Man, then none of this would have happened.”

Peter frowns. He feels too big for his skin, suddenly, but he wants Ned to understand, so he does his best to answer.

“That’s true,” he acknowledges, because yeah, it really sucks, being hurt and afraid, “But if I wasn’t Spider-Man, then Toomes and his crew would still be out there. They’d still be making weapons and they’d still be selling them.”

“But-”

“And even before Toomes, I helped so many people I wouldn’t have been able to without Spider-Man.” He clenches his jaw, tries to hide the way his hands are shaking where they cling to the ceiling. “I think that’s worth it.”

Ned watches him solemnly as he considers Peter’s answer, and something in the way he holds his shoulders shifts, briefly, before he relaxes back into his chair.

“Plus, you get to walk on walls, now,” he says.

“Yeah.” Peter smiles, relieved beyond words. “That’s pretty neat, too.”

After that, Ned lets the topic drop and sits back to watch his friend place his newest stars.

 

A few days later, as they’re waiting for class to start, Ned asks the question that’s been weighing heavily on Peter’s mind since homecoming: “What if you don’t get your suit back?”

Peter concentrates on not snapping his pen in half.

“Then I’ll buy a new hoodie,” he says after a beat, “I need a new one, anyway. The last one’s pretty singed.”

Ned doesn’t say anything; the look of concerned judgement on his face is eloquent enough.

“Hey, I was doing this before Mr. Stark dropped in with his fancy suit. What makes you think I’d stop once he’s gone?”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“It was dangerous before,” Peter says, and it’s the truth but not the whole truth.

Because yeah, catching runaway busses and standing before a mugger’s gun is dangerous, but he was always certain he could handle it.

It wasn’t until Mr. Stark came into his life that he felt truly out of his depth for the first time. That he first learned what it felt like to look death in the eye and keep going, clinging to nothing at ten thousand feet in the air and knowing all it would take was one slip.

Knowing there would be no one to catch him if he fell.

He didn’t fall.

But that’s not the point, he thinks.

Because he could have.

That doesn’t mean he’s gonna stop.

“Well, yeah, but… Isn’t everything that’s happened just proof that you need the suit?” Ned asks. “You know, to keep you from getting hurt?”

Peter taps his pen against the desk, shifting uncomfortably.

“I don’t _need_ the suit,” he says, frowning.

“Okay,” Ned says carefully, “But it definitely helps, right?”

“I guess,” Peter admits. A swell of bitterness rises in him, and he ruthlessly smothers it. “I don’t really think that matters, though. Mr. Stark seemed pretty serious when he took it away.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, absently watching people walk through the door. Then, Ned lets out a gusty sigh.

“This sucks,” he says, crossing his arms on his desk and resting his chin on his arms. At Peter’s questioning look, he explains. “Iron Man is like, the coolest superhero ever, but now I’m mad at him.”

“What?” Peter asks with a startled laugh. “Why?”

“Because he made you sad.”

“That’s not his fault.”

He doesn’t know why he’s defending Mr. Stark, but he does it anyway.

“It’s mostly his fault. You told me you cried.”

“Well, yeah, but-”

Before he can continue, someone drops a textbook onto his desk and he flinches away, looking up to find Michelle standing before him

“Tony Stark made you cry?” she asks.

“Not exactly,” Peter says, “It’s actually very complicated-”

“Do you want me to beat him up for you?” She leans forward so she’s practically looming over him. “I’ve always wanted to punch Tony Stark in the face.”

Peter almost asks why. When he considers what he knows about her, he decides not to bother.

“I really appreciate the offer, but uh, it’d probably be best if you... didn’t.”

Michelle shrugs and says, “Your loss. See if I ever offer to do anything nice for _you_ again.”

She saunters away to her seat, two rows over and three behind, and Peter is left feeling both confused and strangely touched.

Then he notices her textbook is still on his desk.

After exchanging a long suffering look with Ned, he brings it over to her.

“You left this at my desk,” he says when she raises an eyebrow at him and shifts her arm to cover whatever she was doodling in her notebook. “I figured you probably need it. You know, for class?”

“Don’t presume to know what I need,” she says flatly as she takes it back.

“Uh, right. Sorry?” He clasps his hands together and rocks back on his heels before turning to march back to his desk, deciding it’s probably better to just walk away. Before he can get very far, Michelle grabs his wrist.

“Wait. Thanks,” she says grudgingly. Then, she looks down at where her hand is wrapped around his wrist. “You, uh, you should call me MJ.”

“Uh, sure. Why?”

“Why not?”

Peter shrugs and nods, seeing no harm in the request even if he doesn’t quite understand where it’s coming from. Finally she lets go of him and he walks away, not noticing the way she slides down in her seat, looking frustrated as she watches him go.

“What was that about?” Ned asks once he sits back down.

“I have no idea.”

 

Two days later, Michelle announces to the decathlon team that her friends call her MJ, Mr. Stark gives him his suit back, and May catches him wearing it.

Once he’s talked her down from going after Mr. Stark with a tire iron for endangering her child, they sit together and talk, _really_ talk, for the first time in months. It’s hard, at first, but then everything spills out of him and he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to.

He doesn’t want to.

This talk is exhausting, but it’s important.

He holds nothing back.

When they’ve said everything they can, May presses a kiss to his forehead and he can tell she’s still angry, but he doesn’t think she’s angry at him, not really. Finally, she sends him to his room, telling him she needs time to think, and he goes with no fuss. As he closes the door behind him, he tries to pretend he can’t hear her crying in the other room.

He flops down on his bed with a tired sigh.

To Happy: _heads up my aunt knows now_

To Happy: _she may or may not try to kill mr stark next time she sees him_

To Happy: _just thought you should know_

He doesn’t get a reply.

He doesn’t know why he expected one.

His phone vibrates and he almost doesn’t look. When he sees it’s Ned, however, some of his frustration bleeds away.

From Ned: _hey man where’d you go earlier??_

To Ned: _was everyone mad_

From Ned: _nah not rly just flash_

From Ned: _what happened?_

To Ned: _happy brought me to avengers hq_

From Ned: _!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

Peter can’t help the smile that breaks across his face.

To Ned: _right???_

To Ned: _mr stark offered me a new suit and everything_

To Ned: _it was totally a test but still cool_

From Ned: _are u sure??_

To Ned: _????_

From Ned: _that it was a test_

Instead of replying, Peter calls his friend and as soon as he picks up, asks, “Why wouldn’t it be a test?”

“I don’t know,” Ned tells him, “It just seems kinda weird that he’d drive you all the way upstate just for something like that, you know?”

“I mean, he did look kinda disappointed,” Peter says slowly as realization hits. “Oh my god.” He sits straight up, horrified. “I just turned down being an Avenger.”

“Dude,” Ned says, a strange mix of awe and pity coloring his voice.

Peter groans and pulls at his hair.

“This sucks,” he says.

“I don’t know, Peter. Maybe it’s a good thing,” Ned says cautiously, as if afraid Peter will get mad at him for suggesting it. Peter lets himself fall back again.

“Yeah, I know,” he admits with a sigh. “It is. I mean, I’m still having nightmares about Toomes. That probably means I’m not ready for anything bigger.”

What he doesn’t say, but what he _means_ , is that he isn’t strong enough.

“Having nightmares about a traumatic experience doesn’t make you weak,” Ned tells him, as if reading out of a pamphlet. Then, softer, like a secret, “I’m having nightmares too.”

“What are they about?” Peter asks.

“Oh, well.” Ned clears his throat. “I keep having this dream where I can hear everything that happens. But it’s never what _actually_ happened, you know? I dream that you- That I can’t do anything but listen while- While you-”

Peter curls onto his side, cradling his phone between his cheek and the bedspread.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and it hurts.

“It’s not your fault, Peter. It’s not a big deal,” Ned says, but he sounds sad and tired, and Peter hates it.

“It is,” he says. “It is a big deal. You shouldn’t have to be afraid like that.”

“Neither should you,” Ned replies immediately.

Peter closes his eyes, listens to the sound of Ned breathing through the phone, and does his best to match it.

“Yeah. May said that too.”

 

After that, on the nights when Peter can’t sleep and he doesn’t want to burden Aunt May with even more of his problems, he calls Ned and they talk for hours about the future, about how someday, when they live together, they’ll have five cats, all hairless, and name them after the Power Rangers.

Whenever Ned calls him late at night, his voice shaking, Peter distracts him with Star Wars trivia he looks up while they talk and asks about the weird man who lives down the hall and who Ned swears is a real life wizard.

It helps.

It really does.

And then things change again.

 

The first time MJ chooses to actually sit with them at lunch rather than lurk five seats away, Peter stops talking mid sentence.

“What?” she asks, clutching the book she’s holding to her chest. “I felt like a change of scenery, that’s all.”

Peter exchanges a look with Ned, shrugs, and goes back to telling his story.

She doesn’t contribute much to the conversation that day, but she’s there, and it’s a start.

It happens again. Then it keeps happening, and soon enough it’s no longer strange to see the three of them huddled together at lunch or between classes.

When Peter tells May he’s made a new friend, she laughs and hugs him so tight he can barely breathe, but he doesn’t protest. He just wraps his arms around her and presses a smile to her shoulder, feeling so proud and bright and happy he thinks he might burst.

All he’s been doing lately is giving her reasons to frown.

It’s nice to make her laugh again.

 

By this point, you’d think he’d be used to sudden changes in his worldview.

Somehow, they still manage to catch him off guard.

It happens as he, Ned, and MJ are walking down the street one Saturday afternoon, looking for a place to eat lunch. Just as they’ve decided on one of the new fusion restaurants that opened just last week, he feels more than hears an explosion that can’t be more than two blocks away. Another soon follows, and then the screaming starts.

He shares a panicked look with Ned before looking over at MJ. Instead of watching the chaos, she’s looking at him.

“Well,” she says, gesturing to the source of the trouble, a supremely disinterested look on her face, “Aren’t you gonna go do your spider thing?”

A wide smile stretches across his face.

He isn’t surprised she knows.

He’s a little surprised she never confronted him about it.

Ned whirls to face Peter, looking betrayed, and says, “I thought you said I could be the one to tell her?”

“Chill, dude, he didn’t tell me anything,” MJ says. She raises a brow at Peter. “Shouldn’t you be stripping by now?”

With a bright laugh, Peter jogs off, calling as he goes, “You’re the best, MJ.”

“We’ll get takeout for you,” she calls back, and Peter would do a flip if he wasn’t still in his civilian clothes.

He does his best to hold onto the bright, floaty feeling in his chest as he takes down the creature that caused the explosions, some alien looking thing with robotic eyes and scales down its back.

When a little girl in a homemade Spider-Man costume of her own barrels into him after the fight, clinging to his leg despite her mother’s embarrassed apologies, he crouches down and poses for a picture. She kisses his cheek through the mask as she holds onto him with small hands, and as Karen coos in his ear, he thinks, _this is why I do it_.

If he could take this feeling and show it off to everyone he meets, no one would ever ask why he does this again. They would feel it too, the trust and relief and honest care that spills through every word and touch these people give him, and they would understand.

After waving goodbye, he swings away, dropping in an alley near the restaurant Ned and MJ are waiting outside of to change back.

“How’d it go?” Ned asks as he hands Peter a bag of still warm food. Peter is too busy prying open the container and shoving a forkful of rice into his mouth to answer, so he gives them a thumbs up and smiles, puffing his cheeks out.

He swallows his food and asks, “How was lunch?”

MJ doesn’t answer, too busy staring at Peter’s hair in a way that doesn’t make him feel self conscious but maybe a little strange, so Ned takes the lead, chattering away in his most dramatic storytelling voice and basking in the quiet sort of joy that wells up every time he gets Peter to laugh.

When they reach the point where they’d normally split to return to their respective homes, Peter turns to MJ.

“Hey, do you wanna come over for a sleepover at my place tonight?” he asks. Ned looks surprised but pleased.

“Yeah,” he chimes in, “We have one, like, every weekend. You should totally come.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been to a sleepover before,” MJ says dubiously. Peter looks down at his feet, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the street.

“Oh, well, that’s okay,” he says, forcing a smile so she doesn’t feel uncomfortable, “I just thought-”

“I mean I’d love to,” she interrupts him, a wild look in her eyes.

“Oh, um, great!” He shifts forward and flexes his feet to stand on his toes, and this time the smile is real. “I’ll let my aunt know. Do you want to come over now, or?”

“I have to grab some stuff from home,” she says, “I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

“Cool,” Peter says. “Um, anytime works, so just come over whenever you’re ready.”

“Cool,” she echoes, smiling. Then, she straightens her posture and clears her throat. “I’d better go, then. Bye.”

With that said, she turns on her heel and strides away, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

When Peter turns back to Ned, his friend is watching her leave with amused pity.

“What’s that look for?” Peter asks.

Ned just shakes his head and grabs his arm, dragging him off in the direction of home.

Peter pouts but doesn’t struggle, letting his friend lead him along.

 

In the time before MJ arrives, Peter and Ned do their best to clean his room, but some of the clutter is impossible to hide. His desk is buried under recently salvaged electronics and his closet is perpetually messy.

Peter places his hands on his hips as he looks over their effort.

“You’ll still like me even if she takes one look at the posters on my walls and decides I’m too nerdy to live, right?” he asks.

“Dude, I gave you those posters.”

“Oh, right.”

“Why are you worried? It’s just MJ. She’s cool.”

“That’s the problem,” Peter says, clutching at his hair. “She’s _super_ cool and I’m- I’m just-”

“Spider-Man?” Ned suggests. Peter glares, and his friend does his best to hide his smile. It doesn’t really work.

“I’m being irrational, aren’t I.”

“A little,” Ned says with a shrug.

Peter groans.

Finally, MJ arrives. Before May can open the door, Peter sprints down the hall to get it himself, skidding the last few feet as he catches himself against the frame. Ignoring May’s look of amused surprise, he opens the door with a smile.

“Hey,” he says, only a little breathless, which is actually quite weird when he thinks about it because why would he get breathless from just running down the hallway, unless-

“Hey,” MJ replies, scuffing one of her boots against the floor as they stand there, just looking at each other. It’s a little awkward. It’s mostly nice.

Then May pointedly clears her throat, and Peter feels himself startle before he grins sheepishly and steps back to let MJ in.

As she steps over the threshold, Peter can’t help but feel as if the world has shifted beneath him, but rather than leaving him off balanced, he feels steady and warm and maybe even happy. When he looks back toward his room, he catches Ned watching them with a smile and a look in his eyes that Peter doesn’t quite have the words for.

Once introductions are complete, May sends them back to Peter’s room with a tray of cookies that have somehow managed to be edible, despite his aunt’s tragic lack of skills when it comes to baking.

Although he knows it’s irrational, Peter feels inexplicably shy as he shows MJ into his room.

“Not bad, Parker,” she says approvingly, and Peter has to bite back a frankly ridiculous smile. He bounces lightly on the balls of his feet to try and expel the remnants of his nervous energy. “I dig the posters.”

“Thanks,” Peter says. He sees Ned preening out of the corner of his eye. “Ned’s the one who got most of them for me.”

If it were just he and Ned, they’d be breaking out a lego set or one of the many puzzles that Ben used to collect before he- Before. But with MJ here, their rhythm has changed, and it takes a moment to adjust.

Before the silence can get too awkward, MJ takes charge.

“So,” she says as she clasps her hands behind her back, “What exactly do you losers do at a sleepover, anyway?”

“Well.” Peter looks over at Ned who shrugs. “Usually we watch movies and work on a puzzle or two, but we can do whatever. There aren’t really any rules.”

“I’m down for a puzzle,” she says, and with a smile that’s only a little bit tinged with relief, Peter heads for the hall closet to grab one that has yet to be opened.

At one point, MJ convinces them to play an episode or seven of an anime that neither he nor Ned have heard of before, so the puzzle takes longer to complete than it usually would. Once they finally manage to finish it, Peter grabs another, but they don’t get very far before it’s set aside and they sprawl out across the floor, letting their conversation wander to all sorts of new places as the night creeps up on them.

Finally, they're too tired to function any longer, so they do their best to push all of the clutter to one side of the room and play rock paper scissors to determine who should sleep on the floor since all three of them are equally determined that it should be themselves. Ultimately, Peter wins, and he spreads out his sleeping bag with a flourish as he ignores Ned and MJ’s attempts to protest.

Ned accuses him of cheating, but Peter just calls him a sore loser and tells him that sticking to walls doesn’t really do much by way of letting him win a game of rock paper scissors. And anyway, it’s not like they could prove it.

Finally, after much debate, Peter tells MJ and Ned to choose a bunk and goes to change and brush his teeth while they decide who gets to sleep where.

It’s only once he’s started undressing that he realizes he forgot to grab something to change into.

With an annoyed huff, he heads back to his room to grab a shirt. He figures both of them will be okay seeing him shirtless since Ned has seen him in way less and MJ seems unfazed by literally anything, but when she sees him, MJ makes a strangled noise and presses her face into her hands. Peter freezes, staring wide eyed. When she doesn’t move, he turns his confused look on Ned.

Instead of answering, Ned just grins, no help at all.

Deciding it’s probably wiser in this instance to move on without addressing whatever just happened, Peter finds a clean shirt and heads back to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed, ignoring the way MJ is watching him leave through her fingers.

“This is awful,” he hears her say once he’s left the room.

“Don’t worry, you get used to it,” Ned replies.

Peter squints at his reflection.

“What?” he calls back at them, not sure if he heard right, and not sure how to interpret it if he did.

“Nothing,” they respond in unison.

Peter thinks about pushing the issue, but in the end he decides to let it be.

If it’s important, they’ll tell him eventually.

 

A week later, Ned suggests they go study in the park near his apartment building for a couple hours to take advantage of the cloudless day.

Peter agrees, but MJ tells them she’s going to be a little late, so when they arrive at the park, Peter and Ned claim a picnic table and take out their homework due next week.

Nearly fifteen minutes into their study session, Peter can tell Ned’s distracted.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing, it’s just, someone keeps texting you.”

“Ah,” Peter says as he goes back to his work.

“Who is it?” Ned asks.

“It’s probably just Mr. Stark.” He turns his phone over, ignoring the texts.

Ever since giving him his suit back, Mr. Stark has been checking in on him a few times a week, and not always about Spider-Man things. Peter’s reasonably certain it’s one of the requirements May gave the man in exchange for continuing to let them be in contact, but he hasn’t asked.

“Aren’t you gonna reply?” Ned asks.

“Um, nope,” Peter says, going back to his homework.

It’s not that he’s mad at Mr. Stark, exactly, it’s just that he doesn’t really want to talk to him right now because even though it’s been over a month since he gave the suit back, he’s still distant around Peter in ways that catch him off guard and make him feel small. Besides, he shouldn’t have to drop everything just because the man gives him some attention.

May would be so proud of him.

He glances up at Ned, and his friend still looks as if he can’t quite believe this is his life.

“What?” Peter asks.

Ned just shakes his head. Then, looking genuinely curious, he asks, “Does May still hate him?”

Peter snorts.

“Oh yeah,” he says. “If he wasn’t the one upgrading my suit, I’m pretty sure she’d ban me from even being in the same room with him. Not that she’d have to.” If he sounds bitter, he doesn’t particularly care.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, um, nothing,” Peter says, “It’s just, between the whole Germany thing and him giving my suit back I talked to him, like, four times, and one of them was when he took it away. I guess I just don’t see why he’d want that to change.”

“Do you _want_ to talk to him?” Ned asks.

“I _did_ ,” Peter says. “But May says I shouldn’t rely on him for support too much and that I need to be careful with how much I let him influence me, especially since I don’t actually know if he cares about me as a person, so.”

“Well, he’s texting you right now.” Ned glances between Peter and the phone, slowly moving his hand toward it. “I’d say he at least cares a little.”

Before Peter can respond, Ned snatches his phone off the table, unlocking it and scrolling through the texts, holding it as far out of Peter’s reach as he can.

“Hey!” Peter protests as he tries to grab it back. Ned elbows him away.

“He wants you to come in for upgrades,” Ned tells him, ignoring the way Peter’s trying to climb over him to grab the phone from his outstretched hand. “Also he wants to know how your day was. Hey, do you want me to reply?”

Peter gives up on trying to take his phone back and drapes himself over Ned’s shoulders.

“Oh my god, Ned,” Peter says with a groan, “I thought you didn’t like him anymore.”

“Oh, right,” he says, “Now I’m definitely going to reply.”

“What? No!”

Peter scrambles for the phone again, tackling Ned off the bench. His phone goes flying, but before Peter can grab it, MJ arrives on the scene and picks it up.

“Oh, hey, you’re texting Stark.” As she scrolls through the texts, she tells him, “I want you to know that I’m very disappointed in you.”

“Ned’s the one who wanted to reply,” Peter says, pointing accusingly at his friend who’s laughing helplessly where he’s lying on the ground beneath him. “I was all for ignoring him.”

MJ hums in reply.

“Likely story,” she says.

“It’s true. Ned, tell her.”

Ned is no help at all.

“I’m gonna tell him to fuck off,” MJ says decisively.

Before Peter can even attempt to stand, Ned grabs his thighs and holds him down, cackling.

“No, MJ, don’t!” he says as he tries and fails to reach her, “Ned, let go of me. I have to stop her!”

Peter manages to slip one leg free, but Ned just wraps both arms around his other leg, knocking him off balance and rolling over so they're tangled together and Peter can’t escape. By the time Peter has mostly freed himself from his octopus of a best friend’s hold, MJ is looking far too satisfied with herself for Peter’s peace of mind.

“There,” she says, and Peter finally gives in, letting Ned pull him back down to lie spread-eagle on the ground. She sits down beside him and taps him gently on the nose with his phone. “All taken care of. You’re welcome, spider boy.”

Peter snags his phone from her grip.

He’s almost afraid to look.

He checks Mr. Stark’s messages to him first.

From Mr. Stark: _Hey, kid, how was your day? I have some new upgrades for your suit. You and your aunt should come upstate next weekend so I can install them._

From Mr. Stark: _Also,_ _you’ll be pleased to know that Happy’s been telling me all about how good of a job you’re doing, so keep it up._

From Mr. Stark: _By that I mean he complains about you constantly._

From Mr. Stark: _It means he cares, really._

Then, five minutes later.

From Mr. Stark: _I’m going to assume the reason you’re not replying is because you’re busy with something that doesn’t involve risking your life. Let me know if I’m wrong._

He scrolls down.

To Mr. Stark: _Fuck you tony stark_

“Holy shit,” Peter says faintly, “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

MJ shrugs carelessly.

Ned grabs Peter’s wrist to tilt the phone screen so he can see. When he reads the text MJ sent, he offers her a fist bump, which she graciously returns.

Peter does his best to ignore them as he hurries to correct the situation. Even though he doesn’t really mind MJ’s decision (in fact, it make him feel glowy in a way he can’t quite put into words), he figures it’s best not to get on Mr. Stark’s bad side. After all, he’s already taken the suit away once. Who’s to say he won’t do it again?

(In their spare time, he and his friends have taken to designing new suits as backups in case that happens. Even though it’s impractical and also ridiculous, Peter can’t deny it makes him feel better.)

To Mr. Stark: _oh my god mr stark im so sorry that wasnt me i swear_

To Mr. Stark: _my friend took my phone and she really doesn’t like you_

To Mr. Stark: _sorry_

From Mr. Stark: _It’s fine, kid._

From Mr. Stark: _I’ll admit I may have had a bit of a heart attack from the shock, but it’s nothing I haven’t heard before._

To Mr. Stark: _ill ask may about going upstate_

To Mr. Stark: _not sure if she’ll say yes tho she still doesnt like you very much either_

From Mr. Stark: _I got that, thanks._

Peter wonders if he should say anything more, but anything he can think of would just make it worse. Luckily, Mr. Stark texts him again before he can make a decision.

From Mr. Stark: _Don’t worry about it, kid. Your aunt and I are working on it._

Upon reading the latest message, he drops his phone to his chest.

If he needed proof that Mr. Stark and May talk to each other when he’s not around, this is it. He wonders, briefly, what they talk about. But then, it’s rather obvious that all they really have to talk about is him.

He bites back a grin.

It feels good to know that Mr. Stark cares enough about this mentorship thing to brave May’s anger and that May is willing to work with the man (even though Peter suspects she’d much rather punch him) if it means keeping him happy.

When he notices MJ and Ned watching him expectantly, he sticks his tongue out at them.  

“You guys are the worst,” he says, though he doesn’t manage to sound very convincing.

“Liar,” Ned says gleefully.

“You love us,” MJ adds as she drops a handful of grass onto his face.

Peter smiles, and it feels as if he’s been cracked open, sunlight pooling deep in his chest.

“Yeah. I guess I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love these kids so much. 
> 
> Also this thing has been sitting in my drafts folder since August so like, pls take it.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://asterismsinyoureyes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
